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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381240">Pride &amp; Prejudice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90'>adia90</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:13:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if it was Anne who had a crush?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Winifred Rose, Royal "Roy" Gardner/Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon MacPherson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>“My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was okay having her crush unreturned. It has been three years of longing after Gilbert Blythe, and she was okay with it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It started with him helping her with Billy in the forest that fateful day. She was awestruck at his heroism, and how he distracted Billy from harming her without executing any violence. She had heard of him from Ruby and the girls, and was quite curious to begin with about this boy. The moment her eyes had landed on his curls and smiling face, she knew he had taken her heart forever. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Back then, she had tried to reign in her admiration for him in respect for Ruby. Her precious friend had harbored affection for the boy earlier, as she had so called dibs on him. As Ruby’s crush wore off and was transferred to Moody, Anne felt freer to express herself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tried not to be overbearing. She felt it in her heart, that she didn’t need to smother him to make him notice her. It was enough for her to let him know that she was thinking of him by doing the simplest and mundane things for him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two winters ago, John Blythe had passed away and Anne’s heart went out for him. The girls planned to bake something to bring to him, and she suggested shepherd’s pie, as she had learned how to bake it from Marilla the previous week. She had chopped the meat and carrots meticulously before mashing the potatoes to make it as soft as Marilla’s. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We are sorry about your father passing, Gilbert,” Diana said quietly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert smiled and nodded ruefully.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The girls and I made shepherd’s pie for you,” Anne started shyly. Truly, she did most of the cooking. But what if he hated it? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” he murmured in really. Truly, even in sadness, he was as handsome as ever. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A few days later, she learned that he had left town. She was dismayed, but as Providence had it, she ran into him in Charlottetown, right before he was about to board the ship to Trinidad. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come home some day, Gilbert,” she had said. Gilbert smiled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A year later, he had come back with Sebastian in tow. Anne could not help but marvelled at the fact that he had managed to find yet another kindred spirit. It helped that she adored his adopted family. When he was away on the ship, she had written him a letter. One, because she had missed his presence and rivalry in class. Second, because she was worried about him. As long as he was alive and well in any parts of the world, she was happy for him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Time has been kind to him, for he had grown into a dashing young man. Anne’s crush on him festers, and she felt her cheeks warmed every time they conversed about homework and college. Anne appreciated his intellect so much. The past year when he was away, school was boring without much of a challenge from other pupils. Gilbert was exceptional in algebra, and Anne was not shy to admit, that was one subject she didn’t mind relinquishing her reign to. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for tutoring me algebra,” she said after one of their tutoring session. Time has given her confidence. It was not something to be embarrassed about, having a crush on a worthy man. Gilbert was definitely worthy, and if there was something which Anne has learned from Austen or Bronte, love is something to be cherished, and it was quite apt to say that the very first moment she beheld Gilbert, her heart was irrevocably gone, unquote Austen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert would nod and offer her one of his warm smiles, and he would walk her to Green Gables whenever permissible. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Mary passed, Anne tried her best to help the Blythe-Lacroix household to the best of her abilities. She knew Gilbert still blamed himself for Mary’s death, especially after the conversation they had in the field. She knew she was not the best at giving advice, but she knew, if Gilbert were to pursue his dream to be a doctor, it would not be the last time he would be breaking bad news to family members and she wanted him to know, how empathetic he was, and how appreciated he would be. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Winter gave way to spring, and Anne’s feelings bloomed, unrestrained.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was her sixteenth birthday eve when she decided it was time to make her intentions known. So what if she liked a boy? Would it be so wrong to announce it to the world? She planned her take notice slip in advance, and picked a violet to gift it to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was about to locate him to surrender the violet (and her heart), when she happened upon Gilbert’s conversation with Moody.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s pretty obvious that Anne is smitten with you. Are you going to take it up with her?” she heard Moody asking. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne blushed. She knew she was confident in her feelings, but she was not aware that other people has also taken notice. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not like that with Anne. I don’t love her. In fact, I have my eyes on a girl in Charlottetown. Anne, she is friends with my family. It’s a bit uncouth if I were to ignore her completely.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne could feel her heart falling to her feet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think she’s aware of that. Maybe you need to break it to her?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She could hear Gilbert sighing. “I don’t know, Moody. You know how volatile she is. I don’t want her to be upset. I’m bringing Winnie to the fair next week. I don’t want anything untoward to happen to her.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t really believe Anne would do anything to your beau, do you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think so, but one can never be careful.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne was disappointed. Not because Gilbert did not return her feeling, well, that might be a small part of it, but because after all these years, how could he think she would harm another person deliberately?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stepped out from behind the school building, picking at the flower that she had brought for him. The two boys startled, as Gilbert immediately stood on his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am not sure which one is more disappointing,” she began. She refused to cry over a boy. In her eyes, he had been relegated to that, a mere boy, just within seconds of his speech. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne -,” Gilbert started. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The fact that you, a person I thought a friend, would backstab me, or the thought of you thinking I would harm another person for the sake of your affection,” she continued, her eyes cold. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moody pursed his lips, and shook his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t mean it that way, Anne!” Gilbert exclaimed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She chuckled ruefully, tossing the flower into the nearby bush. “I know to have you love me back would be a tall order, but I had thought we could remain friends,” she looked up at him sadly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guilt reflected on Gilbert’s face. Moody slowly stepped away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. “You <em>are</em> a friend,” he spoke, albeit unconvincingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A family friend you pity and doubt. I think I’d take none of those,” she decided. Her heart felt surprisingly light. She stared him directly in the eye. “Thank you, Gilbert. At least I have finally opened up my eyes when my affection is not wanted. Goodbye.”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sermons was long and Gilbert had to admit, he didn’t pay attention to a single word coming from the priest. He glanced at the pew opposite his, and noted the absence of a certain redhead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He exhaled. He felt guilt eating at his conscience. First, for feeling relief that it would put an end to her conspicuous staring his way. Second, for actually hurting Anne. It was pure dichotomy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He trekked to Green Gables after finishing his morning chore around the orchard. He rehearsed his speech to Anne on his way there, aiming for cordiality rather than being too sensitive. He didn’t want to feed her crush on him again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knocked on the door, thinking the talk was for the benefit of Anne’s well-being, and therefore much warranted. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The door creaked open. “Hello, Gilbert,” she greeted, surprised to see him standing at the front door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were not in church,” he remarked, holding the newsboy cap in his hand. He was, nervous? Angry. Angry because he was feeling guilty. It was not his fault he didn’t have any romantic feelings for her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She frowned. “No, I was not.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He exhaled. “Listen, Anne. I know I hurt your feelings, but you shouldn’t let it affect your relationship with God and your neighbors.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked startled for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hurried on. “I apologise for not requiting your crush, but it should not hinder your spirits, Anne.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. Then she pursed her lips before answering. “I had <em>cramps</em>, Gilbert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Realisation dawned on him. His hands which was twiddling his cap fell to his side. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” she echoed. “I know, right. Must be surprising to know that not everything is about you,” she deadpanned. “May I please be excused now?”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The day of the fair dawned upon them. Gilbert debated twice before going to Matthew to borrow his cufflinks. Arriving in Green Gables, he saw Anne with her hair in a single braid, measuring flour. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is Matthew in?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked up, surprised to see him at the door. The last time they parted it was not on cordial terms. “He’s at the back,” she answered cautiously. “How can I help you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d like to borrow his cufflinks,” he hesitated. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne nodded before wiping her hands on her apron. She disappeared into Matthew's room before coming out with a box containing the silverware. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert took the box, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is there anything else?” Anne asked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you baking?” he blurted. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hesitated before answering. “Mary’s cake.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Will I be seeing you at the fair?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe not. I don’t want to be accused of purposely hurting your beau,” she joked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s face turned red. “I didn’t mean -.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am quite busy, Gilbert. Is there anything else?” she asked again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert shook his head, and left. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the fair, Gilbert finally ran into Anne and her family at the cake stand. She was waiting there with Bash and Delphine standing by her side. She had her hair down, and Gilbert felt a queasy feeling in his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry, Anne. I’m sure your cake turned out delicious, like how my Mary made hers,” Bash said consolingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne bit her lip nervously. “I don’t want to disappoint you. I just want to make Mary proud,” she confessed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert gave a slight cough, to alert them of his presence. “Hello, everyone. This is Winifred,” he announced, gesturing to the pretty blonde on his arm. He felt proud, she was a sight to behold. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A chorus of hellos greeted them. He looked surreptitiously at Anne, who took a step back and offered a gentle smile to Winnie.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Winnie nodded and waved courteously, always the perfect debutante. “Hello, nice meeting all of you.” She turned her gaze at Anne, who had a puzzling smile on her face. “You must be Anne,” she said. “Gilbert mentioned you a lot.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, I assure you, I am generally a sane person. You are safe here,” she replied, looking pointedly at a blushing Gilbert.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Winnie looked perplexed. “I am sure you are. What’s with you being awfully smart and helpful to his family.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked taken aback. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, it’s your cake!” Diana came rushing, hugging her friend tightly. “You won second place!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked at her bosom friend disbelievingly. “Are you sure, Diana?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Marilla patted her back. “They are calling your name, Anne,” she said, beaming proudly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne exchanged looks with Bash, and Gilbert waited with bated breath for her to acknowledge him too. To no avail. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go get the ribbon together, Bash. It was Mary’s recipe after all,” Anne urged. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m happy supporting you from here, Anne. I’m sure Mary is ecstatic too, and grinning down from Heaven,” Bash replied with a teary smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They hugged and Anne left, being pulled away by Diana. And Gilbert stared after her, until the moment Winifred tapped him gently on the shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s interesting, your neighbor,” she remarked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She is.”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Summer was approaching and the Avonlea students started to be anxious of the upcoming Queen’s entrance exam. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have done extremely well in English and History. But I suggest more tutoring for Algebra. How does that sound?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne nodded enthusiastically. Anything to ensure passage to Queen’s. She was looking forward to spend more time with her favorite teacher before leaving for college in fall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Miss Stacey clapped her hands once. “Great! I’ve recruited Gilbert to tutor you Algebra since he is excellent in the subject, and he too, could use your help in History.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Slowly Anne’s smile started to droop. “I don’t think that would be a great idea, Miss Stacy,” she began. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Miss Stacy frowned. “Why not? He was very agreeable when I ran the idea by him yesterday.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We may have, uh, a conflict of interest,” she replied delicately. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her teacher looked at her with pity. She did run into Gilbert and his stunning beau during the county fair. And that was the conundrum, she had thought the boy harbored the same feelings for Anne. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am sorry, Anne. I didn’t take into account your, uh, situation,” Miss Stacy apologised. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne blushed. It was morbid to find out even her teacher knew of her infatuation, or previous, for the curly-haired boy. “It’s alright, Miss Stacy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Boys will be boys, Anne. And I promise, the pasture is greener in college. But maybe, for the sake of your achievement and his, you could both compromise?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The front door of the classroom swung open. Said boy stood at the entrance, a nervous look on his face. “Hello,” he greeted, walking in. He looked pointedly at the seat adjacent to Anne’s. “May I sit here?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne nodded, offering him a small smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They worked together for a full hour before they were dismissed. Anne started packing her satchel before saying goodbye to the teacher and her fellow student. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She swallowed her groan and turned around. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s walk home together,” he suggested, rubbing his neck nervously. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne shrugged. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was quiet the entire walk home, half listening to Gilbert talking about pursuing medicine, some new discovery in Paris, and Delphine. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Winifred’s father offered me a place in the Sorbonne,” he spoke. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In exchange for her hand in marriage,” he continued, looking her directly in the eye. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne pursed her lips, before giving him a gentle smile. “I wish the both of you all the happiness in the world, Gilbert.”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The day of Queen’s entrance exam result had arrived. It was no surprise to anybody that Gilbert and Anne both tied in first place. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Congratulations, Anne,” he beamed, offering a hand to congratulate her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne grinned. “Thank you, Gilbert. Congratulations to you too,” she replied, before turning around to squeal with her girls. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His smile faded as he watched her flitted from one person to another, congratulating them. She even hugged Moody happily, proud of the future clergyman for his higher-than-expected marks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash and Hazel prepared a feast to celebrate his acceptance to University of Toronto. He was feeling wistful, saddened to be leaving his makeshift family coming fall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Paris would be stellar but I think Toronto will be just fine for you, brother,” Bash remarked. “I am so proud of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert chuckled. “Toronto is also world-renowned, and I can’t wait to work alongside great local scientists like Dr. Emily Oak.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you told Anne about Toronto?” Bash asked nonchalantly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blushing, Gilbert shook his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash shrugged. He planted a big kiss on his daughter’s cheek, prompting a laugh from the little girl. “She’ll figure it out sooner or later, when she sees your mug here back home at Christmas.” Then he chuckled. “I’ll miss that girl and her spirit. It won’t be the same without her around.” </span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was finally Christmas, and Anne’s spirit soared. She felt a certain fondness for the snow. There was something calming about the white blanketing the fields and her lovely Snow Queen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bash! Hazel! Dellie! Elijah! I am here with your favorite plum puffs and cherry pie!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Queen Anne!” Bash greeted her jovially. They exchanged enthusiastic hug. “Look at you! You are looking lovely, my Queen!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne blushed. “Thank you, Bash. You are looking well, too. Where are the others?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My momma is doing shopping with yours in Charlottetown, remember?” Bash replied, taking the basket filled with offerings from Anne. “Elijah is in the barn, storing the carriage.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Anne,” the familiar voice, the owner of whom she had thought she would never see again, greeted her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello,” she replied, still astonished. The curly-haired boy had turned into a man, she thought begrudgingly. “Welcome home.” What she really wanted to say was, <em>what happened to Paris?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then she realised it was not really her business.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s chuckle knocked her out of her reverie. “Thank you. Glad to be home.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cleared her throat and gave him a perfunctory smile. “Well then, enjoy the baked goods and I shall be on my way,” she announced.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s smile fell. “You don’t have to go, Anne.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I must be going. I came just to send the plum puffs to Bash,” she replied over her shoulder, already buttoning back her coat. “Have a merry Christmas, both of you!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert hurried out to catch up with Anne’s quick stride. “I didn’t know you were still coming around with plum puffs for my family.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne paused, turning to face her neighbor. Her face was cautious. “Should I stop? I’m not trying to win any favors. Bash loves them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had a serene smile on his face. “I love them too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had a small smile and looked away. “I’ll see you around, Gilbert. Happy holidays!” she greeted, before skipping off towards Green Gables. </span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was late, two nights before New Years when there was a knock on the door. She was up for some reading while Marilla and Matthew had retired to bed for the night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, Anne. Hazel and Elijah are away visiting their friends at the Bog and Bash is down with the flu and she has not been sleeping for the past two nights,” Gilbert sighed, entering the warm house with a bundled Delphine in his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled gently. “It’s okay, Gilbert. I will give a hand to calm her down. Hand her to me, please.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He passed Delphine who was scratching her way to Anne and expertly Anne took off her swaddle to assess the sobbing child. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dellie, why are you giving trouble to your daddy and uncle Gilby?” she cooed gently. She pattted the child, feeling her forehead. “She feels slightly warm,” she noted. “Let’s not swaddle her for now. She can’t sweat off her fever if she is kept swaddled.” She cooed and proceeded to calm down the infant. “Did she empty her bowel lately? She looks bloated.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert paused before answering. “I guess it has been a few days.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Has she been drinking enough?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She has been refusing her bottle lately,” Gilbert reported, worry on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s drooling,” Anne murmured. She stuck a finger into the baby’s mouth, and Dellie instantly chewed on it. “Oh! Mystery solved!” Anne exclaimed, beaming. “She’s teething!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert let out a sigh of relief. “Teething I could handle. I was worried of something more sinister.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s almost one, now. She’s cutting her incisors. Those can be a pain, to both baby and caretaker,” she said, slowly pulling out her finger, much to Dellie’s annoyance. Anne chuckled. “I’m going to give her a cold rag for her to chew.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Anne. Bash and I owe you,” Gilbert said, finally taking a seat at one of the chairs. He watched as Anne soaked a piece of clean rag in the bucket of water before wringing it gently. The gentle slope of her neck was enticing, the way her amber hair was piled on top of her head was elegant, Gilbert observed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not a problem. In fact, I can take care of Dellie tonight and you and Bash can have some rest. You can come and pick her up tomorrow,” she proposed, giving him a smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert wanted to stay, if only to help Anne with taking care of Dellie, but he didn’t want to sound like he was undermining her. And he wanted to tell her why he didn’t go to Paris, but he was aware it was not the time nor the place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After the holidays, he vowed to tell Anne, about everything he has been feeling. Starting from why he did not propose to Winnie and why he had chosen to stay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had accompanied Bash to the bank to settle some pending issues with the farm. The horses moved gently along the avenue. The crowd was not as big as usual as some businesses were still closed for the holidays.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes caught sight of a familiar redhead, locking hands with a tall gentleman, walking toward the teahouse, the exact same one he had brought Winifred to last spring. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do Marilla and Matthew know that their daughter is cavorting around Charlottetown with a strange man?” he asked, a strange timber in the sound of his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash looked at him weirdly. “What strange man?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pointed to the couple, and they witnessed as the tall man bowed to open the establishment’s door for Anne with a flourish. “There. He’s parading her around town like he owns her!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash shrugged. “That’s Roy, Anne’s beau. He’s not a strange man.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt a heaviness in his chest. “I didn’t know Anne has a beau.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is quite new. According to Mrs. Lynde, he has been persistent in trying to court her since September. She finally agreed to courting on Thanksgiving. He’s really not such a bad guy. Filthy rich, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s heart raced. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Rachel said that she had to deflect many suitors her first year of college. I know that the folks outside of Avonlea would see her for how precious she is,” Bash replied, a wistful smile on his face. “She really is quite beautiful, isn’t she? The red hue of her hair, it is really quite becoming.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert nodded wordlessly. “It is.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash was silent as they rode further away from town. “Should have talked to her before you left for Toronto, brother,” he commented shortly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert agreed silently. Inside, his heart started breaking.</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I heard Anne is courting some boy from Halifax?” Gilbert asked nonchalantly. Both he and Moody were waiting for the train to Charlottetown, before taking a ferry to Port Elgin. From there, it would be another twenty hours on train before he arrived in Toronto.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moody nodded. He had his hair slicked back, very appropriate for a clergy in training. “Yeah. He’s Royal Gardner. Heir to a logging tycoon.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert gulped. “Uh. Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moody cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Gilbert. “I feel like college has opened up my eyes to the things that were masked by prejudice back home. Although she is an orphan, she is still more respectable than others, and one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever encountered.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I always thought so about her,” Gilbert mumbled, looking down at his shoes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But you allowed your friends to sway your opinion of her. I know you were fond of her, Blythe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert sighed. He looked up to face his best friend. “Be it as it may, it’s too late. I really was quite presumptuous and rude,” he mumbled, resigned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moody shrugged. “Honestly, you don’t really deserve her with your past treatment of her,” Moody continued bluntly. “She’s going to Redmond next year on full scholarship. I admire her for her tenacity. Our girls are lucky to have her in their circle. She is the reason they are working so hard in college.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert smiled wistfully. “Relentlessly pursuing to break the status quo, I presume?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moody laughed. “You know it!” He patted Gilbert on his shoulder. “Is she the reason you didn’t go to Paris?” he asked knowingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert nodded. “Moot point now, eh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Never say never, Blythe.”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dear Anne,</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I wonder if you would ever receive this letter. It has been sitting on my drawer for the past few weeks, as a result of a debate whether I have any rights to write you after what went down a few years ago.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I beg your forgiveness for the way I treated you last spring. I let others’ antiquated views clouded my judgment and as a result, jeopardising my friendship with you. I appreciate your favor for me, although I failed to be gentlemanly about it at the time. Being in your favor is an honor, Anne, and I am sorry I sully your memory of it with my uncalled reaction.</span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dear Gilbert, </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Hereby I acknowledge the receipt of your letter. I had a debate on whether a reply was pertinent, and I thought I should at least let you know that your letter had made it safely into my mailbox. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">In the similar way, I propose let the bygones be bygones. Please do not feel like you owe me an apology. You are entitled to feel whatever you want to feel. </span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dearest Anne,</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">I am relieved to hear that you have absolved me of the sin I committed upon you. I am afraid I shall take this as a free reign to continue writing to you, although I do not hope for a prompt reply. I am plenty happy to know that you would be reading my missives, instead of throwing them away…</span> </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will." - Charlotte Bronte</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Life felt like it has reached its pinnacle, although her spirit had just started living. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne had listened to the marriage talk by Roy from the beginning of their courtship. Initially, she had felt flattered, that this charismatic man, who was both beautiful and clever, was willing to marry a lowly orphan like herself. She was told of a mansion by the waters, with maids for each tasks. She was told of the sprawling fields and gardens where she can frolic in the summer and admire in the winter. She was told of the trips to exotic places to fill her days and her dreams. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was also told of baubles and diamond rings. The beautiful roses that would line up the aisle in the grand cathedral in Halifax. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course, a doctor will be assigned to verify your virtue before we are married,” Roy announced, the nonchalance was almost similar to announcing the sky was blue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne was appalled. “Are you saying that another man will be witnessed to my private area before my own husband does?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy shrugged. “It is just the way it is, my love. Gardner women have come from a long line of virtuous ladies, and that is how we uphold the family values.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked at him in astonishment. That handsome man barely bid his lashes telling her his family’s archaic practices and beliefs. “Roy, I know for a fact that you bedded Philippa Gordon before courting me,” she stated quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her beau had the gall to blush. “That was a past transgression, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If it’s not important to me for you to hold on to your virtue, why is it so pertinent to you that I have my virginity card in tact? As it is, it is MY virtue, not yours, for you to be inspecting and announcing to others?” Anne questioned, trying to keep her anger in check.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because that is what made you valuable, my love! How you keep your virtue in tact.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne pursed her lips and squeezed her fingers in her lap. She looked up at the face that she thought she would marry one day. “Why didn’t you marry Phil, Roy?” she asked softly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She was for fun, Anne. She was hardly marriage material,” Roy explained cautiously, aware how the tone of their conversation had changed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why do you want to marry me?” she continued, tilting her head to the side. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy reached over to squeeze her hands. “Because you’re you. Vivacious, smart, lovely, beautiful you,” he replied gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you love me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her, shocked. “Of course I do!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what if in one of the orphanages or foster homes, I was raped, or I was wild, or perhaps, I just felt like having relations, would that reduce my value in your eyes? Would you have loved me less?” she asked, her eyes boring dead into his. “Or would you even bother to court me, Roy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy spluttered. “I -, I…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why have you never tried bedding me?” she asked bluntly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pulling his hand away from hers, Roy looked away. “Because I want to keep you <em>pure,</em>” he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because that way I would be a valid marriage material,” she added sarcastically. “Not because you respect me, or the fact that I would reject your advances for premarital relations?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sighed. “I know you have morals, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to keep my virtue because of my love for you!” she rebuked. “Because it is something I want gifted to you, not because it adds value to my being of a valuable bride! And the fact that you’re alright with another man touching me down there unnecessarily, do you even care about me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man colored at her outburst. “Of course I do!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then why won’t you allow me to pursue my education and aspiration after we marry?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, you would need of nothing! I will give you everything, therefore there should not be any need for you to work! No Gardner women have been a career woman a day in their lives, ever!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course. What they do is preen all day and stare disdainfully at others as if we are lepers."</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s no secret that your mother hates me, Roy. The only consolation prize is that I am a virgin, am I right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sighed. “I am the one marrying you, Anne. She should not matter in the grand scale of things?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Except she is the one who deemed it necessary to marry in the biggest church in Halifax, to have the most pretentious flowers to populate our wedding, and to perform such an archaic examination on the future bride. What else am I missing?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is the price you pay marrying into a family of aristocrat, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” Roy hissed out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne stood up, removing the ostentatious ring from her left fourth finger. “Then maybe I am undeserving, Mr. Gardner,” she stated stiffly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne -.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She slipped the ring into his palm. “Goodbye, Mr. Gardner. Maybe you will one day find a more deserving bride. Thank you for the memories.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The trip back home was long. But in his mind, there was only one constant thought. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to tell Anne why I didn’t go to Paris,” Gilbert blurted. It was almost August; he had to stay back in Toronto for a couple of weeks for his internship.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash raised an eyebrow. It was out of the blue. And they stopped discussing Paris a year ago. “Why <em>didn’t</em> you go to Paris?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, Bash,” Gilbert mumbled. “You know why.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You got to come clean with yourself before thinking of telling it to another person, Gilbert.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love her, there!” Gilbert exclaimed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Bash deadpanned.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert sighed. “It’s just, I feel awful because of the way I treated her last year. Courting Winnie was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I don’t think Anne would hold a grudge against you for courting another woman when you were not yet in love with her, Blythe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert buried his face in his hands. “It was not only that. I said some awful conjectures about her reaction to finding out about Winnie. It was almost character assassination, when I was supposed to know her better!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash frowned. “Anne didn’t mention anything to me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert groaned. “See? She’s an angel for not complaining about how I totally badmouthed her to one of our classmates.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why did you say it, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sighing, Gilbert ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I thought she was too young for me. She always had this… pining look in her eyes, and I was uncomfortable with it. And the way she had smothered me with attention, both in school and at home, I felt embarrassed by it. Some of the boys were teasing me about it and…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash shook his head. He had an inkling of what his younger counterpart might be feeling: regret. “And what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And when she stopped looking at me that way, when she stopped seeking me for the most mundane thing, I felt a loss. All the teas with Winifred could not make up the profound absence I felt,” Gilbert whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Blythe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert looked up, a renewed hope in his eyes. “I want to right what I did wrong. I want to court her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash looked at him warily. “You know that she is with Gardner. I’ve met the man. He is pretty decent.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t give her up, Bash,” Gilbert pleaded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be it as it may, how could you be so confident that she would take you back? You did reject her before, Blythe. You can’t expect her to fall at your feet just because you have decided to love her back,” Bash rebuked, and it might as well be the harshest thing he had ever said to him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were too used having things going your way, son. But Anne is engaged to be married.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s face fell. He slumped his body against the carriage. He was hopeful when she was only in a courtship. This new development, it was killing him. To see her walking down the aisle to another man? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The world was suddenly bleak again.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Summer was spent working the farm with Bash. The heat made him temporarily forget his heartbreak. He tried his best to avoid the route towards Green Gables but one fine day, he had run into the object of his affection, literally. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, righting her farming hat, which had been obscuring her vision from the midday sun. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s firm hands righted her from tumbling to the ground. “Anne,” he breathed, like she was an apparition from his dream. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne blushed as she took a step away from the imposing man in front of her. Time has been good to him, like wine, and he seemed just to get better with age. “Gilbert,” she greeted cordially. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How have you been?” he asked, removing his farming hat and wiping the sweat off his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve been well,” she replied. “How are you and the Lacroixes?” she asked, fiddling with the basket of flowers in her hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiled gently. Chrysanthemums. The bright flowers were a mirror to her spirit. “We are fine, thank you.” He tilted his head to the side. “We haven’t seen you around in awhile, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh!” she started, smiling at her basket. “I have been busy helping Marilla and Matthew with the crops.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not too busy hunting for your favorite flowers, though?” he joked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her smile widened. “I’ll bring by some plum puffs soon, if that is what you’re asking for.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t mean that, Anne,” he rushed to correct her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She laughed. “No, no. I missed seeing Dellie too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How is Gardner doing?” he blurted, too nervous at the sound of her beautiful laughter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her laughter died off instantly. “I assume he is fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have not met up with him lately?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head, confused. “Why should I?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aren’t you courting?” he asked cautiously, hope blooming in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked down to the pretty flowers. “We decided to go our separate ways.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt her sadness. And her regrets. She had loved him. Gardner. Not him. He had a chance. But he had rejected her. There was a pang in his heart. “I’m sorry, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Summer wore on. Marilla would be over with Anne sometimes, and in return he would join Hazel in one of her walks with Delphine to Green Gables. They would be invited in and fussed over, especially by Marilla, who doted endlessly on Delphine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your mother can’t wait for you to have one of these, Anne,” Hazel remarked as the three of them sat on the verandah, watching over Marilla holding Dellie as she tumbled around in the garden. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert saw Anne freezing, before she gave off a nervous laughter. “She may need to wait awhile,” she replied, a wistful smile on her face. Gilbert could not decide, was it because she would not be having children with Gardner, or was it because she would not be having children any time soon in general. The not knowing was killing him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t tell me you and Roy are one of those people?” Hazel replied, raising her eyebrows disapprovingly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne leaned over and gave her neighbor a side hug. “Yes, Hazel. I am one of those people, <em>alone</em>. Since Roy and I are no longer betrothed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shocked, Hazel pulled away to look at the younger woman intently. There was an earnest look on her face. Gilbert waited for Hazel’s response, keeping himself silence in the conversation. If anything, he knew Hazel would be honest with her opinion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a few moments of looking at each other, Hazel nodded firmly. “I am sorry for your failed engagement, dear girl. But it is his loss. You are far too good for him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne blushed. “You and Marilla are good for my soul,” she replied, giving Hazel a kiss on the cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert ignored the pointed look from his adoptive mother as Anne looked away to the garden. The raised eyebrow told him everything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because it is true. You are too good for most men here. Mark my word, dear girl. He’ll be begging for you to take him back.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, why did you stop sending me letters?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne stopped the kneading process for their dinner rolls. He had come by in the pretence of borrowing a novel to fill his end of summer days. He eyed the kitchen table lined with trays after trays of rolls. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did?” she asked, surprised. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nodded, his heart beating rapidly. “You did.” He stood up, his hands shaking slightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I’ve run out of things to tell you,” she replied, a frown on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had so many things he wanted to tell her yet she had run out of words after two one-page letters? “Are we friends?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne sighed. “If you are saying that I may still hold a grudge on what had happened back when we were young and stupid, so help me God, Gilbert,” she said exasperatedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was young. Did she mean that she was stupid for falling in love with him then? “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gilbert, look. It was in the past. I am sorry if you are still bothered by it. If I could, I would go back in time and tell young clueless Anne to stop staring creepily at her neighbor, because he was going to bring the guilt of not reciprocating her feelings into his adulthood,” she said firmly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not guilt I am feeling, Anne,” he protested. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her earnestly. “It’s regret.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne opened her mouth to reply, but closed it back. They stared at each other for a few moments before she averted her gaze to the dough. “Is it because you didn’t go to Paris?” she asked, going back to her kneading. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it is the other way around," he replied quietly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodness, child! I think that is enough baking!” Marilla exclaimed as she stepped into the house. “Are you baking for the whole of Avonlea?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert could see the visible relief on Anne’s face at the interruption. “It is for when I go away. I just want to make things less difficult for you, Rachel and Hazel. I’ll start with canning soon.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was resolute; today would be the day he would declare his intentions to Anne. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knocked on the kitchen door of Green Gables, which was opened, as per usual during summer. He tried to spot the redhead, but to no avail. Marilla poked her head from the pantry. “Ms. Cuthbert. How are you doing? Is Anne around?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Stepping out to the kitchen, Marilla wiped her hands on her apron. “She has gone off early to Halifax, Gilbert. I thought you knew?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I lied about this being the end chapter. Apparently the words got out of control and now I think we're going to settle this at 4. *fingers crossed*. Thank you for reading and stay safe!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Soul meets soul on a lover's lips.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Anne,</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">It is Christmastime and there is a heaviness in my heart. This is the first time that I have not been home for Christmas and it is eating away at my conscience. I long to be with our family but alas, the opportunity for winter internship with Dr. Emily Oak is something I cannot miss. I can’t wait for you to meet her; she is one of those you would acknowledge as a kindred spirit. </span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dear Gilbert,</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Apologies for this letter taking its own sweet time. Truthfully I have been busy with assignments. I am sorry you did not have the opportunity to come back during Christmas. Bash and Delphine have missed you a lot. In fact, the entire Blythe-Lacroix family unit did miss you, as Hazel lamented about the stale bread you would be eating for Christmas dinner, as opposed to her scrumptious turkey spread. </span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dearest Anne, </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">It was so good to receive a mail with the postage from Halifax. I believe you had a delightful Christmas with our loved ones. I received a missive from Bash detailing the joyous Christmas celebration and I couldn’t help feeling envious. Did you miss me? </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I am glad you are making time to enjoy home despite your mounting assignments. I believe I have not properly conveyed how proud I am of your achievement. Avery Award is very prestigious, and there is no one I know who would qualify other than you, our very own Avonlea genius. </span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mr. Blythe, what are you still doing in the lab on a Friday evening?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert was startled and looked up from his microscope. He was studying the bacterium recently discovered by a German physician. The coupled rounded bacterium was isolated from penile discharge of a man who recently visited a whorehouse. The clap was a common disease among men and women who had relations with multiple partners and it was causing problems in the city of Toronto. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am merely studying the morphology of the bacterium, Dr. Oak. I fear I did not get enough time with the slides earlier this afternoon,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Emily Oak nodded approvingly. “I notice your special interest in Microbiology. Would you like to pursue the subject as your specialty in grad school?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do have a special interest in research. But I do feel I could contribute by being a hands-on physician too,” he replied, sounding unsure of his future. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Emily smiled. “There is no rule that says you can’t do both, Gilbert. A lot of men and women would benefit from a physician who listens because talking about venereal disease is never easy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The more I learn about the disease, the more I understand God’s reasoning to keep ourselves chaste,” Gilbert said with conviction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Emily raised an eyebrow. Being a liberal woman in science, she had experienced first hand that even the best of men and women fell victim to venereal diseases. “While it may be one of God’s reasoning, the disease does not choose its victims. Sometimes in life, you become a victim of circumstances.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dr. Oak’s words made him pause. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is not our job to judge the people that approach us, Mr. Blythe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert colored at her remarks. “I know, Dr. Oak. I simply meant, the physical act, I perceive it differently,” he spoke quietly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Emily smiled. She noticed how this young gentleman, while handsome and virile looking, had kept to himself, although he could have any choice of women he wanted. “You have a sweetheart back home, Gilbert?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked down, his face bashful. “I admire a childhood friend of mine. She has such a kind soul and her fighting spirit has always amazed me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Delighted, Emily’s smile widened. “You sound right about smitten, Gilbert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert nodded, feeling his ears turning red. "But I am not sure if she returns my affection," he admitted, before feeling mortified. There he was, a medical student, baring his heart and soul to one of his lecturers! "I'm sorry, Dr. Oak! I didn't mean to overshare," he stuttered. </span>
</p><p class="p2">Emily chuckled. "Gilbert, I regard you as one of my sons. Please do not hesitate to lament about your love life to me. There is so much one can discuss about gonorrhoea," she joked. "Now, tell me, why do you think she does not return your affection?"</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Anne,</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">The chrysanthemums lining my boarding house are blooming, and they constantly remind me of you. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">There is a conversation needed finishing. Could you please spare me the time to do so this summer? </span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Being in love was enervating. And did not result in anything satisfying. Anne felt she could do not having a suitor, or a courtship, as the previous two times she was in love was extremely taxing to her mind and self-esteem. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But there was one thing she wanted to experience at least once in her lifetime. Physical intimacies with the opposite sex. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was sure it was time she has her ‘cherry popped’, the way Phil Gordon had put it. “You’re a modern woman, Anne. Don’t let tradition and outdated beliefs dictate your life!” the woman had said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Easy for her to say</em>, Anne thought dryly. At least she had managed to ‘sample’ Roy, while the man had barely touched her below her décolletage throughout the year they were courting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he’s repelled by all the freckles and sickly looking skin, she thought in dismay. Roy, tall and handsome as he was, could get any woman he wanted. When he had first started pursuing her, she had thought she was some kind of bets for Roy to win.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Months had passed and he was relentless in his pursuit. He was quite earnest, writing to Matthew and Marilla about courting her, sending her flowers every day. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And one fine day in November, she had accepted his invitation to tea. He had attended to her with the utmost care, holding her hand like it was a piece of glass. He had showered her with gifts and baubles, some of which she was too shy to even wear. She had told him numerous times that she did not put a price on her affections, just as long as he would be there for her, and to love her for who she was. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Apparently it was too high of a price tag. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>And</em> there was those damning letters from one Gilbert Blythe. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They just kept on coming. And coming. No matter how delayed her replies were, he was a steadfast corresponder. Most of the time, Anne skimmed her eyes along the meticulous writings of the future doctor before tossing it into her drawer. Minutes later, she would be haunted by guilt and took out the letter before reading it properly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the situation called for a reply, she would sit down and pen one. She was not completely heartless, although she could not fathom why it was he was telling her these things. Things she had no business knowing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She still regarded him as a friend, as close as their families were. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe that was the reason why she was penning this particular letter to his troubling one:</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Anne, </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">This month has been exceptionally hard and I always feel I could turn to you to clear my head.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was three pages long, detailing the death of two of his practicum patients, and the gruesome midterms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She put pen to paper. She could spare him some time to appease his worry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dear Gilbert,<br/></span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I am sorry last month has been hard on you. Please believe in yourself. I have never once doubted you and your capabilities.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Sincerely, </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Anne</span> </em>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By Dr. Oak’s advice, Gilbert promptly returned back to Avonlea once the semester broke for summer. He had done enough throughout the year to gain him extra credit to carry forward next year.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was looking forward to breaking a sweat at the orchard; being cooped up in the laboratories and lecture halls were limiting the scope of his imagination, quoting his favorite redhead. He smiled at the thought of her, from her scarce correspondent, he knew she still cared for him, at least as a friend. He vowed to gain her affections again, no matter the cost. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look at you being a moke again, smiling at the apple tree,” Bash spoke, smacking his head from behind. “What’s so special about that particular tree that’s makin' you smile like that, Blythe?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert laughed. “One, I can smile at this tree as much as I want. Second, can a guy just be happy without any reason?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A brooding moke like you? Being happy voluntarily? Why isn’t the sky falling already?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” Gilbert relented. He blushed and rubbed the back of his head. “What do you think of me calling on Green Gables?” he asked tentatively. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash raised an eyebrow, pushing his hat higher on his head. “I didn’t know you think that way about Marilla, Blythe,” he joked, smirking knowingly at his brother. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert chuckled. “It’s Anne, you moke.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash exhaled, patting his brother on his back. “Finally. It’s a long time coming, son.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think she would take kindly to me asking her on a walk?” Gilbert asked, unsure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You’d never know unless you ask, Gilbert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you may want to ask fast, Blythe,” Elijah called from the top of a tree in another lane, clearly having been eavesdropping. “She’s getting lovelier day by day. I may as well ask her out to tea myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash tossed an apple in the general direction of the tree. “To think Miss Anne would spend a thought on a miscreant like you!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Elijah laughed. “So? Girls like them bad boys!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, GIRLS. Not women, like our Miss Anne!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert chuckled. It was good being back home.</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The first time that Gilbert had called on her almost two weeks ago, Anne felt a peculiarity unlike any other. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They had walked all the way to their old school, and ran into Miss Stacy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gilbert! Anne! So good to see you back home!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne smiled, rushing for a hug from her favorite teacher. “Miss Stacy! You are looking well!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Muriel pulled back, a proud smile on her face. “I am feeling quite well too, especially now that I have my favorite students here with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert hugged his teacher dutifully, an easy grin on his face. “You’re as vivacious as ever, Miss Stacy,” he greeted. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s my aim in life, Gilbert,” Muriel joked. She looked at the two students, the boy had turned into a man, the girl, no longer in braids, her hair up in an elegant updo, befitting a modern young woman. “You both are like a breath of fresh air. I have missed you both so much.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve missed you too, Miss Stacy,” Anne gushed. “I’ve yet to find a kindred spirit such as yourself in Redmond. I hope the remaining two years would be kind to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure you would be fine, Anne,” Gilbert added gently. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Muriel raised an eyebrow. She could sense something from Gilbert, which was perceived dubiously by Anne. The redhead smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I hope so.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The second time he came calling was on Sunday, right after church. He invited her for a walk along the shore. One look at Marilla and Matthew, the encouraging smiles on their faces, she didn’t have the heart to say no. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time she came back home that Sunday, Anne was pretty sure of Gilbert’s intention; he wanted to court her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her sixteen-year-old self would have rejoiced, a handsome boy like Gilbert, calling on her while trying to court her. But life happened, two heartbreaks and a broken engagement later, having a beau was not as thrilling and life-fulfilling as she had thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But there was something she might need from the handsome Gilbert Blythe. Yes, she was an objective person; he was a good looking man. It helped that she was attracted to him, as the gentle fire in her belly might have indicated whenever he was near.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That Wednesday was a perfect day. He had come calling around late afternoon. The white shirt was tapered to his lean body, tucked into the pair of pants that clothed his muscly legs perfectly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t think suspenders were appealing before. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How about a walk to Hester Grey’s?” she suggested. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His face brightened, and Anne was nervous. But the hesitance disappeared, knowing the experience she was looking forward to would change her entire life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne was nothing but determined. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She walked closer to him than she ever had. Sometimes their hands would end up brushing each others’, and Gilbert would beam at her, the splendid chin more prominent with each grin. Anne reminded herself not to be too dazed by his dreamy smile, as she had a goal to fulfil. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hester Grey’s garden was in full bloom that July. The air was getting cooler as the sun was slowly descending down the horizon. They walked into the overgrown grass, lined with shady cherry trees, and with a heart set in stone, Anne pulled Gilbert gently to sit on the floor of the enchanting garden. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man looked at her, akin to awe, and Anne gulped. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, I’ve been wanting to unburden my heart -.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kiss me,” she cut in, pulling him by his suspenders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s eyes widened. “What?” he croaked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said, kiss me,” she repeated breathlessly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without waiting another second, Gilbert leaned down to cup her cheek in his hand before their lips met in a heated kiss. It caught her by surprise. The passion fuelled by the kiss was quickly leaving her breathless. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on hers, his hand still cupping her cheek gently. “Is this really happening?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She leaned forward to kiss him again. “It is, Gil,” she whispered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They kissed again, longer this time, and Anne tilted her head to give way for him to deepen their kiss. Mr. Blythe was an enthusiastic kisser, his lips pillowy soft and he tasted of apples and cinnamon. Anne could not help running her hands through the soft curls at his nape. She let out a moan as he peppered kisses along her jaw. The delicious feeling prompted her to lie fully on the floor of the forest, before pulling the man to cover her body. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert hesitated, framing her head with his strong arms. “We need to slow down, Anne,” he said breathlessly, as he feasted on the gorgeous spread in front of him. Her hair had become undone, strands of fiery red hair as the backdrop of her enticing body.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We are both adults, Gil,” she whispered, her eyes a darker blue, as she stared at his swollen lips. He watched as she unbuttoned the top clasp of her blouse, before she unbuttoned another. Then another… as he learned that, Miss Cuthbert had ditched her corset for the day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to do right by you,” he muttered, unable to lift his eyes from the freckled milky skin of her mounds. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not doing anything I don’t want you to,” she reasoned softly, as one hand slowly pulled down one side of her chemise, to reveal one of her breasts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne…” he was speechless. There was no sight as bewitching as the dryad lain in front of him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt her hands pushing down his suspenders, before her dainty fingers started to untuck his shirt. He caught her hands in his, and kissed them across the knuckles. “I want to speak to Marilla and Matthew first,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss her on her lids.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s keep this between us for awhile, Gil,” she whispered, running her hands tantalisingly up his chest. He groaned, as he kissed her deeply, his body covering hers fully, her nipple brushing against his skin. His hands, which were idle minutes before, started roaming her body, before squeezing her bosom gently. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne could feel him growing hard against her belly. She had known of it from tales from the like of Phil and Stella, who were well acquainted with the male body. She squirmed a little, trying her best to rub against him, as Stella claimed, any sort of movement against the penis would throw the man into a frenzy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">True enough, something unleashed within Gilbert. His lips plundered hers, his tongue exploring her mouth ardently. His hands, big and warm, wrapped themselves around her breasts, as he tugged her chemise lower. He kissed her breathless, before leaving her lips to trail hot kisses down her neck, before latching his lips on her nipple. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne cried out at the sensation. Never in her wildest dream it could feel this way… hot, delicious, the fire in her belly effused into a flame, heating her from within. She grasped his head, bringing him closer to her bosom, and she cradled his body with her hips. She felt him moving against her, his strong body careful not to crush her. The friction was heavenly, but her heavy skirts…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve been carrying this hunger for you, Anne, you don’t know how much I want to love you like this,” Gilbert muttered, lavishing kisses in between her breast, before sucking greedily on her other nipple. He was a fast learner and realised that she had liked that, the suction, and he gladly complied, her moans music to his ear. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wondered if he could get her off by just that, sucking and licking on her breasts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was as inexperienced as he came. He had shared chaste kisses with Winifred, which was nice but slightly awkward. At that point, kissing was a gesture of intimacy and a sign that they were a couple. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But kissing Anne, it was soul meeting soul, on lovers’ lips. He wanted to kiss her all the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The grinding, the writhing, the suckling, came to a halt, as they reached their peak together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert walked Anne back to Green Gables, after painstakingly arranging her hair to look presentable again. He left her at the door, almost at twilight, giving her a deep kiss. “Please let me talk to Marilla and Matthew,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose to her neck. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Soon,” she breathed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It felt like a promise.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter to go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Why do I lie about the chapters at this point?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He spent the night awake, counting the hours before he could see her again. The next day, he volunteered to accompany her to Charlottetown to buy some school supplies, and on the way back, she had pulled him into the forest, where she had dropped on her knees and proceeded to unbutton his pants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing, Anne?” he asked, his voice sounded foreign to his ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Teach me how to please you,” she said, looking up at him with her doe-like eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to do that, my love,” he cupped her face, his thumb rubbing lovingly against the apple of her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled, looking like the temptress that she was. “I want to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne felt like she was finally liberated. Experiencing the physical intimacies with a man, often heard as low whispers and forbidden gossips, felt thrilling and exhilarating. Gilbert was a handsome man, who was generous in his affections. She had heard Stella said one day, a selfless man is a man who brings his woman to precipice before he does. She could tell from his fumbling that he was new to this level of intimacy too, and she felt some kind of pride to be the woman to break Gilbert Blythe in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was a fastidious lover, as reflected in his studies, and Anne was ever so glad with her selection. One particular warm evening, he had laid her down on the picnic blanket, before tossing her heavy skirt over and pulling her bloomers down. One look at his devilish smirk, she knew she was going to have one of the best evenings of her life. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He licked, he sucked, he kissed, he drank her elixir as she orgasmed from his excellent tongue. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ruby Gillis and Moody Spurgeon were truly a match made in heaven. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both were sweet, albeit slightly gullible, but that added to their charm. Their wedding that early August was a reflection of themselves, fun and relaxed, surrounded by their close family and friends. If there was a couple Anne would think would wake up still loving each other when they turn 80, it would be Ruby and Moody.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Being in the bridal party together was giving her a bit of a headache. Gilbert took it upon himself to sit too close whenever they were discussing anything wedding related. There was a time when his hand crept on her thigh while discussing the appropriate flowers for the men’s boutonniere. She had to reach down and pinch him discreetly, and he pulled away, his face cringing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert did not give up in the pursuit of riling her up. She was alone, her hair in a regular bun, arranging the chairs in the garden where the wedding would take place. Diana, Josie and Tillie had left earlier, as their houses were further away and it was already getting dark. He approached her noiselessly, before wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissing her gently along her neck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gasped, surprised, accidentally knocking down a chair in the process. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just me, Anne girl,” he whispered, squeezing her hip gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gil!” she hissed. “Somebody might see us!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So?” He shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We agreed to keep things between us!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert sighed, lowering his arms to his side. “I missed you, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You saw me yesterday,” she whispered, looking around, afraid of a witness. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Too long,” he replied, tangling his fingers with hers. “Can I walk you home later?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne’s gaze settled on the man, his face hopeful. An ounce of guilt crept in, and she nodded, resigned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The day of the wedding, Anne woke up early to make her way to Ruby’s. Diana was helping with her hair when she cleared her throat. “Is there anything going on with you and Gilbert Blythe?” her bosom friend asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne felt the heat creeping up her neck. “What do you mean?” she asked nonchalantly, trying her best to tamper down her fear. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, he kept on sneaking glances at you. And the way that he has been looking at you, Anne, it should only be appropriate behind closed doors,” Diana continued, smirking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne rolled her eyes. “You know how unlikely it is, Diana,” Anne rebuked. “Remember birthday of 1899?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Diana’s face softened. “He didn’t marry her, did he?” she pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne shrugged. “So, didn’t change the fact that he only regarded me as a family friend who was mentally unstable,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. She might have forgiven him, but she was not forgetting it even given another lifetime. “Besides, after Roy, I have sworn to be the bride of adventure. This falling in love business is getting tiring.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Diana raised an eyebrow. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked at her bosom friend through the mirror. “I truly do. What of my value as a person if I were only viewed for my chastity? There are other things in life worthy of happiness than being an eligible bride material.” She smiled at Diana wistfully. “Although Ruby was really born to be Moody Spurgeon’s wife, wasn’t she? There is no other way to it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Diana shook her head, massaging her best friend’s shoulders gently. “You are born to be somebody’s wife too, Anne. Maybe not to Roy, but I know a certain man who would love to have you by his side.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, Diana, but let’s not worry about my future prospect today, shall we?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The wedding march was playing, and Anne took great pride that all her hard work to please Ruby was coming to fruition. The blushing bride looked so gorgeous with her hair up, and the bouquet that Anne had meticulously picked on her way added vividness to her appearance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When it was Anne’s turn to walk down the aisle as the maid of honor, she didn’t count the fact that she would feel thrown off looking at the best man. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stood next to the groom, looked dapper in his three-piece suit. His wild curls were tamed for once, and Anne almost missed seeing a stray curl hanging down his forehead. He had a twinkle in his eyes, apparently for her, but she quickly looked away as she settled in her place next to Diana. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The wedding went off without a glitch, and it was near the end of the dance session when she felt a tap on her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I believe the maid of honor owes the best man a dance,” he murmured in her ear. Her friends, Diana, Josie, Jane, even Tillie, were smirking. Although Josie might have narrowed her gaze a little. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think you deserve this dance with the esteemed maid of honor, Blythe?” Josie questioned, arching her pretty brow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Gilbert spluttered, his eyes darting to his female school friends one by one. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She took pity on him and stood up, taking his hand in hers. “Certainly, Gilbert. Lead the way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They danced slowly to the string quartet playing ‘All The World To Me’. She had her hands on his shoulders, he had his on her waist, maintaining a dignified distance in the eyes of the public. She could hear whispering from the elderlies while the she could feel the burn from her friends’ gazes on her back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Gilbert asked, his voice low in concern. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head, smiling gently. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You look so lovely tonight, Anne girl,” he murmured, stepping a tad closer to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne braced herself, blushing at his compliment. “Thank you. It’s all thanks to Diana and her magic paint from Paris,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t need all that, but still, you take my breath away every time,” he replied, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt her cheeks heating up exponentially, and clamped her mouth, lest she encouraged him to spew nonsense about her appearance. She thought dryly, how physical intimacies blinded a man so. She had just given out just a little, and he was already waxing poetics. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The night ended and Anne obliged Gilbert escorting her home. Marilla and Matthew had long retired for the night. She allowed him to link their arms. The moon was bright and the air warm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Someday I want to be in Moody’s shoes,” Gilbert announced. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne raised an eyebrow. “As a stumbling, mumbling, clergyman who is the love of Ruby Spurgeon nee Gillis' life?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughed. “No. I mean, I want to be married, to be a husband,” he said, looking down gently at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne averted his gaze. “Well, I’m sure it won’t be an impossibility with you,” she replied. “If I recall correctly, you were about to be one a few years ago. You would have a wife and a few children in tow already,” she commented offhandedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert fell silent. He rubbed her hand in his, and gave it a little squeeze. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aren’t you curious of what had happened?” he asked quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighed, shrugging. “It is not my business. And I don’t want to pry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert exhaled. He paused in his steps, bringing Anne to a halt. He turned her gently to face him. “It had a little bit to do with you, though,” he remarked, looking pointedly at her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne frowned. “How do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t propose to Winnie because of you, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t want to hear anymore. Instead, she took his hand and dragged him off the path to the nearby grove. “What are we doing, Anne?” Gilbert questioned, as he followed her deeper into the forest. They stopped in front of a huge birch tree, where leaned her back against, before pulling Gilbert on top of her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Startled, he rested a forearm against the trunk, framing her with his body. She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the dark, beguiling him. “Kiss me,” she commanded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He heeded her happily. He was hungry for her throughout the entire wedding, and the moment he was allowed to touch her skin, he complied. Her hands were everywhere, pushing off his jacket, before untucking his dress shirt. He took it as permission to cup her breast because really, one he had the feel of the heaviness in his palm, he was addicted to the feeling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squeezed her bosom gently, before tugging down on the bodice of her dress. Her breasts spilled over and he leaned down, sucking hungrily on her nipples. Anne threw her head back at the sensation, enjoying his ministration, as her own hands busily undoing his pants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert loved the feeling of his cock in her hands, but he was still hesitant to fully reveal himself before her. Not before their wedding night, he thought wistfully. He allowed her to cup him, running her palm along his girth, before falling down on her knees, engulfing him in her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne..” he muttered, cupping her cheek gently in his hand. “You feel so good, sweetheart.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne hummed around him, working him up, until he was rock solid in her mouth. She pulled him down, before pushing him on his shoulder for him to lie on his back on the forest floor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She held his gaze, as she reached down underneath her skirt, to pull down her bloomers. His cock throbbed, seeing her breasts hanging out her corset, and her creamy legs as she hiked her skirt higher… and higher… he could see a patch of red.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She straddled his hips, his hardness coming in contact with her drenched quim. He groaned. He heard of this, the act of rubbing their intimate areas together. He lay back, biting his lips at the sensation of her sliding against him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she paused, he opened up his eyes, to see her taking his cock into his hand, positioning him at her entrance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne,” he muttered, sitting up. He grabbed her by the arms. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The vixen bit her lips, before leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss. “But I thought you wanted me,” she pouted, looking so innocent while her hand in between their hips suggested another idea. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She rubbed him against her clit, dipping him slightly in her entrance. He tossed his head back at the heat, groaning. “I do, by God, I do. But we should do things properly, Anne,” he begged, looking back into her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I want you now, Gil. I want to feel you deep inside me,” she pouted, her voice soft. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sight of her was his undoing. He grasped her around the hip, and laid her down on the ground. She yelped delightfully, as he yanked her legs open. He leaned down, giving her a bruising kiss. Grabbing his cock in his hand, he positioned her at her entrance, before meeting her lips with his. He nudged in gently, his head disappearing between his folds, until he met with a resistance. “I love you, Anne girl,” he muttered, before kissing her deeply and thrusting forward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gave a soft cry, and panted slightly. Gilbert halted his movement despite his cock telling him to move. The feeling of her around him was so heavenly. Finally, his Anne girl was truly his. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you okay, darling?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nodded, breathless. “I’m wonderful, Gil. Don’t stop,” she whispered, running a hand through his hair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hips continued the age old movement, as he listened to the cue falling from her lips. Every gasp, every moan, made him vow to please her to no end. He knew he was approaching his peak soon, but he wanted her to come first, come what may. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He started reciting the 206 bones in a human body to slow his ascend, and he thrusted deeply into her. Her heat, the ridges of her warmth were squeezing around him, and he leaned down, suckling her breasts, enticing her to finishing. And she did, as she crested over, he felt his seed squirting inside her, coating her wall, brandishing her as his. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gasped, his breath leaving him, as he peppered kisses on her face and her lids. Her chest heaving, he couldn’t help falling in love all over again. “I love you,” he reiterated, to the silent of the night. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne smiled to herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t feel any different from yesterday. Only the fact that yesterday she was a virgin, and today she was simply, a woman. It felt slightly marvellous, that the one thing hanging over her head, was no longer an issue for her worth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She carried the laundry basket against her hip and threw the door open. And was shocked to find her morning visitor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Gilbert. What are you doing here?” she greeted, frowning. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her, his eyes piercing, a gentle smile on his lips. “I’m here to meet with Matthew and Marilla.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart picked up. She brought the laundry basket closer to her chest. “Why are you meeting Matthew and Marilla?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To ask their blessings to marry you, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne’s eyes widened. She looked behind her, afraid of Marilla, or worse, Matthew overhearing them. When she thought the coast was clear, she pushed him out the door and closed it behind her. “I beg your pardon?” she asked again, her eyebrows must have looked comical on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert frowned. “Anne, I want to marry you. What we did yesterday -.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cut in. “Gil, you’re not obligated to marry me. What happened was between two consenting adults!” she exclaimed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Did you regret yesterday?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. But I’m not about to make a big deal out of it either,” she said incredulously. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her in disbelief. “Well, it was a big deal to me! I took your virtue.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I gave it freely!” she hissed. Gilbert was taken aback, his guard down. He opened up his mouth to reply, before Anne held up a hand to stop him. “Look, I know, we have always been two passing ships in the sea, but it does not mean you owe me anything just because I chose to lose my virginity with you. That was all it was.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The handsome face morphed into anger. “That was all it was?” he repeated. “Anne, I love you! You are not a passing ship, you are the freaking pier to my sail! I made <em>love</em> to you!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was just intercourse, Gil! Why did you have to make everything about feelings?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because everything is about feelings when it comes to you, Anne Shirley!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne exhaled noisily. Her basket was forgotten on the ground. “You are just getting carried away with the situation. With Moody and Ruby’s wedding. Don’t think I didn’t remember your speech about wanting to be a husband last night. You don’t want to get carried away, Gil. Be a husband to a woman you love.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you daft? I told you last night, and again today, I love you!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re just swept away by the emotions,” she sighed, turning away. “You don’t love me. I’m just a family friend, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His face fell. “Anne… You know I didn’t mean that. I’ve apologised. You are so much more than a mere family friend. You know I couldn’t go through with Paris because I had feelings for you. I still do, and it’s not going away," he whispered, reaching out to hold her hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be it as it may, I don’t want to marry you," she spoke, her face earnest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taken aback, he dropped her hand and took a step away, heartbreak evident on his face. “Then why did you sleep with me, Anne? Why did you give me hope?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She let out a big sigh, and looked him directly in the eye. “Gil, sometimes a woman just wanted a cock in her. That was all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grasped her hand as she turned on her heels, his hold still gentle but firm. “Anne, don’t make me do something you’d regret,” he threatened. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked up in defiance, tugging at her arm. “What? What can you do that I have not endured, Gil?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took her lips in a bruising kiss, before letting go of his hold on her arm. “You’ll see.” With that, he turned around and walked away, leaving Anne with her heart racing in chest.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s true, Marilla. We were both so intoxicated, and one thing led to another.” She heard Gilbert’s voice from the parlor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Heart thudding, Anne stepped beyond the threshold. The sight that greeted her made her heart fell to her feet. Marilla was pale, she looked thoroughly distressed, while Matthew, poor Matthew, he sat grasping his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing, Gil?” she asked accusingly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stood up, looking sorry. “I’m sorry, Anne. I was telling Marilla what happened last night. And I will take full responsibility for it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing happened last night!” she argued, rushing to Marilla, falling at her feet. “Marilla dearest, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The old woman shook her head, averting Anne’s gaze. “Please listen to me, Marilla, nothing happened!” she begged, holding onto her adopted mother’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“According to Gilbert, you were intoxicated, child,” Matthew spoke softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What exactly did you tell them, Gilbert?” Anne urged, her eyes blazing with fury. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man had the gall to look ashamed. “I told them the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s exactly your version of truth?” she demanded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Marilla pulled away from her daughter, before standing up and stepping away. Anne’s heart dropped as she saw her mother figure walking away. “Marilla, please!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You will marry this Friday. Gilbert has made arrangement with the minister,” Matthew announced, standing up slowly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What!” Anne cried. “Why should I marry him?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matthew approached her, settling his hands on her arms. “When a woman made the decision to partake in premarital sampling, she should shoulder the responsibility,” he said gently, before leaning down to kiss her softly on her forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne started sobbing as Matthew pulled away. A pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders, bringing her close to his chest. “I’m sorry, Anne girl,” he murmured in her ear. “You forced my hand.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hit him, as hard as she could, raining down her fists on his chest as she pushed him away. Gilbert let her, and eventually, her viciousness ebbed away, but her tears continued flowing. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welp.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this took so long. I've been binging on Netflix and watched some brilliant series; Bletchley Circle. A group of genius women who deciphered codes during the WWII had to return to their ordinary lives after the war while having to hide their pasts. Their counterparts were glorified and awarded medals, these women had to make do with less than fulfilling lives. Their lives changed after noticing a trend in the latest crime hitting their city, but they were ignored because they were women. Please give this a watch. Smart women are why we love AWAE, don't we?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sit down, Blythe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert waved a hand as he rummaged through his father’s drawers. <em>Where is it</em>, he muttered to himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gilbert Blythe, I told you to sit down and it’s an order!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert froze, and slowly turned to face his brother. He saw the furious look on the older man, and he took a seat on his father’s bed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash closed his eyes before inhaling deeply. “Did you compromise our Anne?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s face heated up as he rubbed the stiffness away from his neck. “What do you mean, Bash?” he stuttered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly what the sentence meant,” he barked. “Did you compromise her?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert looked down at his feet, feeling shame crawling deeply into his heart. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Answer me!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nodded slowly, unable to look at his brother in the eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How stupid could you get, Blythe? Why would you jeopardise your future? And her future? Why did you have to think with your pecker?!” Bash shouted, not caring about the other occupants of the house.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love her, Bash!” Gilbert replied, his eyes pleading. “I love her so much I thought I’d die if I don’t have her! I made love to her because I didn’t want to lose her!” He held his head in his palms. “I had to come clean with the Cuthberts. She was only using me!” he sobbed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash paused at his brother’s words, and took a tentative step to the bed before sitting down next to the troubled man. “What do you mean she was only using you?” he asked quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She doesn’t love me. She was just trying to satisfy a curiosity, I guess. Of the intimate nature,” he admitted, as he rubbed his eyes harshly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash frowned. He understood that women, as men, have carnal desires which are not spoken of in polite society. His short time with Mary told him that women too, crave for pleasure. It felt strange to think of his sweet, darling sister Anne seeking sexual gratification outside of marriage and the basic realm of love. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because Anne had been a dreamer, and always would be. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But life happened. Gilbert broke her heart when she was a blooming teen, and Roy had misunderstood her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne would never consent to intimacy if she didn’t feel anything at all for you, Gilbert,” Bash spoke gently. “She is simply not capable of doing that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert shook her head. “You didn’t see her this morning, Bash. She was so scared seeing me calling at Green Gables.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then, she definitely has some emotion for you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert snorted. “Yeah. Negative ones.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be it as it may, what do you gain from forcing her into a marriage, Blythe? Do you think you can force her to love you?” Bash said, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was grappling at straws. I can’t imagine living life knowing she’s with another man. I thought I loved her before, but last night magnified things, Bash. I don’t think I can live without her,” Gilbert confessed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash exhaled. He remembered his own special moments with Mary, and how it could never be replaced. “That’s the reason why you wait until marriage,” he chided. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A little constructive criticism goes a long way, Bash,” the younger man pleaded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bash stood up, dusting his backside. He stared at his brother, looking so young and so sad on his father’s deathbed. He tilted his head to the dresser against the wall. “You hid the ring in the dresser, right after Elijah and your return from the Rose’s, remember? Something about not needing it anytime soon?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert colored at the mention of his past transgression. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can offer it to her, but don’t push her into accepting it,” Bash began. “Respect her wishes. If she is really yours, she will be yours. She bid her time for you, about time you do the same for her.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I sit here?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne nodded, not looking up from her perch by the river. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I missed you in church today.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence. She exhaled. “Didn’t think I deserve God’s grace today, after what I did.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, I have to ask, again, did you regret that night?” Gilbert asked gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But you’re not particularly happy about it either.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you need, Gilbert? Some validation about your prowess?” she attacked, standing up, staring at him with her brow raised. “Yes, you pleased me. I chose you because look at you, that chin, that eyes, that muscles!” Her eyes and voice drifted lower. “That manhood. You’re a superb male specimen, so yes, you did please me, Gilbert Blythe!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert inhaled sharply. So that was how it felt to be objectified. “I’m glad to be of service, Miss Cuthbert,” he replied sharply, holding her stare with his own, unblinking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt it cutting through her heart. She dropped her gaze, her thoughts running in her head. When did she turn into this unfeeling woman? “I didn’t mean it that way, Gil,” she mumbled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How exactly did you mean it then, Anne? Because from the way I see it, I was just a body for you to satisfy your curiosity,” Gilbert shot back, his attempt for a civil talk was out of the window. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not,” Anne sighed, closing her eyes, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. Furious Gilbert Blythe was a sight to behold, somehow the man got even more beautiful in his ire. “I feel an attraction to you,” she confessed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s heart leapt to his throat. “But…” He let it hang. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She opened her milky blue eyes, pleading. “Why can’t we just let it be, Gil? Is this about pride? Ownership? Or tradition dictating that a man needs to marry the woman he bedded?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you really think that when we marry, you would be a property to me? Do you really not think that when we marry, I would not see you as my equal, my partner in both life and love?” He asked, hurt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know what to think, Gil...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His face fall. “Because I do not only admire you for your physical beauty, Anne. I admire you for your mind, your strength, your fortitude. You are the only one for me,” he whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pursed her lips, although her cheeks colored at his speech. He did not expect her to preen, but her reaction was not favorable either. “Admiring someone is hardly a solid reason to marry that person,” she protested. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He exhaled and stood abruptly, before closing the distance between them. The evening sun created a halo of fire around her auburn hair. “Let me rephrase and reiterate. I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, ardently.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She dropped her gaze to her stockinged feet. “You don’t, not really,” she whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How could you diminish my feelings that way, Anne? I know what I feel!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked up, her eyes blazing. “How could you claim to love me after loving a Goddess like Winifred? How could I compare?” she cried out. “Gil, I’ve been ridiculed and laughed at my whole life! How could I easily forget what you said about me to Moody that day?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s heart broke. He reached out to touch her, but she took a step backward, putting a distance between them. “Anne,” he started, trembling. “Those were the words of a foolish boy. Who refused to see what was right in front of him.” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. “Your beauty takes my breath away every time, there is no comparison, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did she reject you?” She blurted, her eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t even propose!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne froze. She looked at him; really looked at him. His eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But.. but,” she stuttered. “Weren’t you promised Paris? In exchange for her hand?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What good would it be for me if I could not be with you? I was in love with you then, am still in love with you, and I could not in good conscience marry her when my heart belonged to you..”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her legs grew heavy and she fell on the perch with little grace. Her rosy cheeks turned pale at the knowledge that the man in front of her had felt for her for longer than she was aware. “But you never…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shook his head as he knelt in front of her. She let him grasp her hands in his. “I did not want to rush you, as I felt foolish for ignoring and rejecting your affections before.” He smiled ruefully. “You were so brave, Anne-girl. If only I had delved deeper into my feelings, I would have realised that I had needed constant validation and ego booster from you, because your thoughts mattered to me. Because I felt affections for you too. But instead, in typical male form, I downplayed my feelings because it should be impossible for me to be in love with a childhood friend. You were always there. I did not get to miss you. But when you left me be, I felt bereft. And I knew, Anne, I knew, I had lost something which I had taken for granted.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I.. I,” she spluttered, looking down at their entwined hands. “I don’t know what to say.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to tell you about my feelings that first Christmas of college, but when I saw you with Roy, I knew I could not burden you with my feelings. Somehow, seeing you courting him, being engaged to him, almost marrying him, was like a well-deserved punishment for my transgression.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you were never boastful, Anne. You could have rubbed it in my face that you were about to marry somebody with such a spectacular social standing. While I was a mere country boy with nothing in my name who had the gall to reject you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne sighed. “It was not a competition, Gil…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I know,” he nodded. “The worst part was, you were in love with him. I was not with Winnie, I could not even claim that I held affections for her other than friendship. The regret I felt knowing I had your affection and lost it due to my callous mistake, that killed me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But for all his money and good looks and trinkets and gifts, he did not deserve you. Nobody did. But I wished one day you could accept me. So when you paid attention to me this summer, I felt like being on top of the world. I thought you reciprocated my feelings,” he continued sadly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Gil,” She apologised. “You were right, I was curious. I did feel a physical reaction from being close to you, I’m not going to lie. But it is not enough basis to tie you to me forever, Gil.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” He whispered beseechingly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just the way it is. I simply do not love you,” she confessed. “Not anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert’s heart broke for the thousandth time. “Not at all?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne looked down at their hands, void of words. How could she articulate to the man that she simply did not believe in romantic love anymore? That it was all in the head, the highs and the lows, the infatuation, the lust, the ebb and the flow, it was never permanent. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The great love she had dreamt of, she was not sure of its existence anymore. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How could a man claim to love her only to put a price on her virginity?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How could a man claim to love a woman, then another, after being adamant not having any feelings for the latter just a few months before? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert wiped his eyes, trying to hide his tears. “Nevertheless, Anne,” he decided. He slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out the velvet satchel. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked at him warily. “Gil…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He placed it in his palm, the shape of the round metal digging into her skin. “This is yours. Because it will never belong to another. Whether you choose to put it on or not, it’s yours,” he spoke softly, closing her fingers around the material. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gil, you should give this to somebody that deserves this. I don’t think -.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He cut in. “I’m the one who does not deserve you. Keep this as a token of the woman who owns my heart. There’s nobody else but you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes pleading. “Gil…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shook his head, a teary rueful smile on his face. “Now that is out of the way, do we worry about pregnancy?” he asked gently. “I didn’t bring it up earlier because I did not want you to think I was only asking because of it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She blushed, thinking of the night, of the lesson Phil had inadvertently taught her after one of her trysts. She shook her head. “I have taken precautions.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stared at her, his eyes glassy. “Do you hate me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart broke. She had never seen the enigmatic Gilbert Blythe that broken. Why do you do this, Anne? “No, Gil. Why should I hate you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shrugged, playing with her fingers. They looked small in his big hands. “For breaking your heart when we were young? For not being enterprising about my love for you and pursuing you actively? For thinking everything would fall in place right into my lap? For taking things for granted?” He looked up into her eyes, smiling. “Choose one.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She squeezed his hands gently. “I don’t hate you, Gil. I hate myself for putting us in this position,” she whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be it as it may, I am not going to push you into a marriage. But I am asking for permission to woo you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t you think it would be better for your future to put effort into a much worthwhile cause?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will not give up until I give it my all, Anne. I won’t pester you, but I’d like you to know I’m here for you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think I deserve your attention, Gil. You deserve to have a woman who fawns over you, who puts you first,” she smiled gently. “I believe you don’t lack female attention there back in Toronto.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He chuckled. “The heart wants what it wants, Anne. But again, no pressure.” He squeezed her hands once again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt the heaviness in her heart being lifted. The thought of a forced marriage that was clouding her vision before had cleared, leaving room for so much possibilities. She felt like she could breathe easy again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She thought back to that night, of warm air, sunkissed perfumed skin, his broad chest and taut stomach. He was a good man, forced into a sinful position by a hussy like her. She leaned down to leave a chaste kiss on his cheek, for the memories. “I’m glad it was you,” she whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her the way he usually did, and finally she realised the light in his eyes all this while has only been for her. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope I leave this with a good note?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <strong>1902</strong>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert simply refused to let her deal with the repercussions alone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What if you get pregnant, Anne?” Marilla distressed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matthew was looking outside the window, his thoughts seemed so far away. Gilbert felt shame, and unable to look the man, who was like a father figure, in the eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve taken precautions, Marilla,” Anne admitted, looking down at her hands, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God in Heaven!” Marilla leaned back against her chair, cupping her forehead, her face pale. “Is this what you’ve picked up from college?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Marilla!” Anne cried. “How could you sully my college education that way? And besides, what is so wrong about family planning and avoiding pregnancy when the time is not right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert squeezed her hand once, reminding her not to get into another long-winded argument. “I will take full responsibility if that happens, Marilla.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so disappointed, Gilbert Blythe! The two smartest, most trustworthy adults in this village, making dubious decisions for the future!” the mother figure exclaimed. “Where did I go wrong, teaching you to be reckless and without thoughts to the people around you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Marilla and Matthew gave Anne appropriate silent treatment the remaining of summer. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Dearest Parents,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">I hope you are not too disappointed in me. The truth is, that I could not disclose to my most loved individuals face to face, I do not believe in the sanctity of marriage anymore. Familial love from the two of you has been amazing and the romantic love I tried to experience has been a bit of a damper. I am regretful for involving Gilbert in my harebrained moments, but believe me, he was not to blame. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Saying that, you two have been my pillars of strength and I believe, no husband is necessary for me to get through life at this point; I have all the love I need from you both, dearest Marilla and Matthew. Please understand my standpoint, and hopefully, come Christmas, you will receive me with open arms and many kisses, as your approvals are all I need in life. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">My love for eternity, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Your Anne of Green Gables</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <strong>1903</strong>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Third year of medical school was gruesome. All the knowledge of anatomy, physiology, biochemistry and microbiology to be applied to recognising diseases and its etiology, transmission, progression and the treatment plan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was like picking the different compartment of his brain at the same time trying to come up with a single solution. Perhaps, Gilbert thought, that was how a doctor should start thinking. Methodically, with a step-by-step approach. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe that was what he should have done, instead of rushing Anne with his affections last summer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sat down as he read the letter, addressed to him like a friend writing to another, instead of from a woman he had made sweet love to under the warm August moonlight. He smiled at her exuberance; writing from behind a cell after being arrested for joining the Local Council of Women of Halifax in marching for women’s rights to vote in Nova Scotia. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could imagine her, vibrant red hair askew, ocean blue eyes sparkling as she scribbled down the happening of the very significant moment in history. She talked about meeting Edith Archibald, apparently a new heroine of hers, who was the leader of the movement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Gilbert.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He startled from the hand on his shoulder, gloved in delicate lace. He pulled away discreetly, trying to avoid any gossip. Christine Stuart, a flirtatious engaged woman, has been quite… stifling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Miss Stuart,” he greeted solicitously. “How can I help you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The dark-haired woman giggled, a hand to her mouth. He was reminded of the lady from his village, who laughed freely, the sound melodious to his ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are always so formal with me!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert smiled politely. “I am being polite, Miss Stuart.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The giggle again. Gilbert refrained from rolling his eyes. His experience with Winifred and the gaggles of women after taught him a giggle from a society girl meant they had eyes on you. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was not exactly stupid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He just liked to feign ignorance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because he had let it gone to his head once, and imagined enjoying the empty attentions, which eventually did nothing to appease his wandering spirits. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Winifred was a simple debutante; pretty, rich, the ringlets framing her face was enticing, and he was flattered that the older girl had paid attention to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It felt different from the gentle attentiveness from a certain redhead from his class. She was there, always there, silently nurturing, her cooking at their doorstep, plum puffs on his table, a clean kerchief when he hurt himself helping Miss Stacy mending the fence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was called handsome first by Winifred, and it felt good to hear it from such lovely pair of lips. She had praised his jaw, and his curls, like he had any say in his appearance, as if it was not for the blessings in his genetics. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The dryad on the other hand, had cleaned up his hands and blushingly told him, the pride she had for him due to the work he had done from the callous of his hands. She had congratulated him many times, beaming, for his intellect. And she had praised him, for disregarding society’s expectation by bringing Bash back as his brother. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I knew you would be in the library. You seem to always be here most days!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert shrugged. “You could say it is my second home, Miss Stuart.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s Friday afternoon, Gilbert. Why don’t you accompany me to tea at the new teahouse on Victoria Street?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert almost snorted. “I think I’ll pass, Miss Stuart,” he replied, aware of how rude he was being. “Maybe you should wait for your fiance to bring you there,” he said sternly, tired of fending unwanted attention from the woman. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Christine narrowed her eyes, her lips trembling. She eyed the letter in front of him, looking like it was haphazardly written with how crooked the lines were. Nevertheless, it was the source of his joy from the way she had witnessed him smiling moments before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She raised a delicate eyebrow, noticing the name ‘Anne’ being scribbled at the bottom of the page, full of flourish. She laughed, no more pretence. Such a simple name for such a simpleton. She daintily tilted the saucer holding Gilbert’s coffee, and watched with pleasure as the black liquid turned the words on the paper into mere squiggles.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” she apologised, full of theatrics. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If she had expected him to yell, she was in for a surprise. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He chuckled, as he calmly blotted the stain with another piece of paper. “The thing about letters from this person right here? She could write me gibberish and I would still remember her words by heart.” He tilted his head towards the library entrance. “Shouldn’t you be on your way before I report you for disrupting the peace inside the library?” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">
  <strong>1904</strong>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The night was simply exhilarating. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are a marvellous dancer, Miss Cuthbert.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne smiled, relishing the attention of the gentleman before her. “It’s all in the leading, Mr. Irving.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were graduating soon. She had accepted a position in Toronto. She had other offers; one from Halifax and another from her own island, a school in Charlottetown. But the position in Toronto would be liaised directly to the Education Department, with a link for research under University of Toronto, fully sponsored for an MBA in Education Management. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had written to Marilla and Matthew the moment she had made her choice. Bash had smiled when she relayed the news to him during Easter break.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be happy,” he had said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you want to leave?” Alex Irving bent down to whisper in her ear. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was how she found herself being pushed gently against the tree in the Pavilion Park. The man was kissing her softly along her neck, and his hand ran down her arm, before squeezing her bosom gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It has been two summers since another man had touched her that way; the touch foreign, not necessarily unpleasant. She gasped at the heaviness she felt in her bosom, as she leaned closer to the man, her own hands doing some exploration. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You smell so heavenly, and God, you fit so perfectly in my hand,” the man growled in her ear. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>“I love you, Anne-girl.”</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tugged on the necklace hanging on her neck, pulling out the ring hiding between her bosoms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>I am kissing a man while wearing another man’s ring. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Resolute, she gently pushed the man away. “My apologies, Alex,” she apologised softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sighing, his lips left her neck, and the man’s hands dropped to his sides, before slowly taking a step backward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have someone, Anne?” he asked gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She squeezed the ring within her palm. “I don’t, but I’m thinking of someone,” she replied honestly before smiling gently. “Like you are.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alex shook his head, chuckling ruefully. “She’s happy with the minister now,” he replied, not denying. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll find another, Alex, and soon, Phil will be a memory too,” she placated. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That someone you are thinking of. Does he deserve you?” he asked, genuinely concerned. After all, they were friends and had multitude of respect for each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She chuckled. “He didn’t. But he made up for it,” she replied. “As of now, I fear I might be the one who don’t deserve him.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked at her, so pretty under the moonlight. Phil Gordon was his first love, but slowly he felt, he could forget her and love another… Anne was an enigma. He did not know of any beaus throughout the entire three years they were studying together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had heard of a broken engagement. And Phil had hinted of a childhood friend turned pen pal. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somehow, at the back of his mind, he regretted not paying more attention to the subtle beauty and brain that was Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are perfect as you are, Miss Cuthbert. And if he had made up for it, maybe he is deserving of you, as your are deserving of him.” He leaned down to give a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Be happy, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am sorry, Miss Cuthbert!” the girl wailed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, Laura. It is just a cut. I’ve had worse injury than this, dear girl.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert froze upon hearing the soothing voice coming from behind the curtain. He paused, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. Could it be? Could it be that, she had walked right into the hospital on his first day of work here, in a city foreign to her?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With shaking hands, he pulled the curtain. His eyes landed on a lady in blue, her fiery hair was as lovely as he had remembered. A girl of probably twelve or thirteen was standing next to her. He tried to give the girl a reassuring smile, but his gaze settled on the beautiful woman in front of him, a spark of recognition in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne,” he uttered her name, almost in worship.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dr. Blythe,” she replied softly with a tentative smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reference sounded so revered in her voice, but that wasn’t what he yearned to hear from her. “Anne-girl, it’s Gilbert.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes widened, and she blushed at the pet name. Now that he thought about it, he had never called her that in front of others. His own tips of ears reddened at his audacity. He crashed back to the moment, to realise that she was cradling her left hand, which was wrapped in a blood-stained cloth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened?” he questioned, falling back into doctor mode. He frowned, disappointed at himself for not prioritising Anne’s injury. He looked down to search her eyes, who was looking at him intently. “May I?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nodded, allowing him to unwrap the cloth from around her hand. “What have you done to your hand, Anne?” he asked gently, the cut about two inches long across her left palm. Blood was starting to slow, most probably from the pressure she had exerted with the cloth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was the culprit!” wailed the girl, who had been silent for the past few minutes. Her crying resumed at the sight of the ugly cut on her teacher’s hand. “I was being careless during our home economy lesson and my teacher saved me from accidentally poking another student!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Laura, take a deep breath,” Anne commanded in a gentle tone. “Calm down, dear girl. I am fine. I just hope you are going to be more careful in the future.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is she really fine, doctor? She has lost so much blood!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gilbert pursed his lips, slightly vexed at the girl, but if Anne could handle her calmly, so could he. “Miss Cuthbert will need some stitches, but she will be fine,” he reassured. He called out to his assistant, who came in with a set of suturing kit. “Why don’t you rest out front with Mrs. Dew, grab a scone while you are at it. You are looking slightly pale, Laura.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, it’s going to sting, I’m not going to lie. There are studies of using cocaine to numb the skin, but it comes with a lot of side effects which I am not comfortable with,” he explained, regret on his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman in front of him grinned. “Gil, do you really think this is my first time under the needle?” she teased. “Do your worst, doctor. I’m sure I can soldier on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chuckling, he applied the catgut on the curved needle expertly. “I forgot that ‘clumsy’ is your middle name, Miss Cuthbert.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doctor Blythe! The gall!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Laughing, he gently grabbed her hand, before exchanging looks with her. Anne nodded. “Nevertheless, I hate to see you in pain, Anne-girl,” he added softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have faith that you’ll make it all better, Gil.” The trust in her eyes was enough encouragement for him to proceed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The three sutures applied was able to stop the bleeding. The knots were lined in one side, spaced evenly, the thread was cut at equal length. Anne marvelled at Gilbert’s precision. He was already on his way to an excellent surgeon. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will prescribe some acetylsalicylic acid powder for pain management. A little trivia, it came from willow bark, much like what our ancestors have been using to reduce inflammation. But this company from Germany called Bayer has managed to extract it into powder form for convenient ingestion,” he explained as he wrapped her hand with a bandage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne chuckled. “Is this how you impress your patients, Dr. Blythe? By showing off your vast knowledge in medicine?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bandage done, he gave her fingers a little squeeze. “Only the smart, beautiful ones.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne felt her cheeks heating up. She could hardly believe that she was flirting with Gilbert Blythe, after almost a year of not seeing each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here in Toronto, Anne-girl?” he asked, curious. “You are far away from home.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re the only native Avonlea with a spirit of adventure, Dr. Blythe?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grinned. He had missed seeing her last Christmas. And the previous summer, everything was tentative. “I have worded it wrongly. My apologies,” he jested. “Let me try again; what kind of adventure have you plunged yourself into, Miss Cuthbert?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked at him steadily, the pain in her palm forgotten. Her heart thudded painfully. She might not deserve him again, but she could try. “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, the newest faculty member of The Normal School, at your acquaintance, Dr. Blythe.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Darling, I’m here to meet you for lunch.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two pairs of eyes reluctantly left each other to look at the woman standing by the entrance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne’s heart dropped. There by the door, a stunning woman with golden ringlets framing her face, stood by, her stained lips curved into a gorgeous smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pulled her hand gently from his grasp, before standing up, a small smile on her lips. “Thank you for suturing my hand, Dr. Blythe. I’ll take my leave now.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anne, wait.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodbye.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If was Winifred all over again. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fall in Toronto was vastly different than in the Maritimes. She missed the golden trees lining the shore when she would take a walk at the Pavilion in the afternoon. She supposed the High Park was an adequate substitute, but the amount of people toiling around made it hard for her to just be and embody herself with nature.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It should teach her a lesson from making life-changing decisions based on her favor for a man. It was romantical when he had uttered about waiting for her, but given a siren like the blonde she saw in the clinic, lavishing attention to him, even the stronger man would falter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighed as she walked faster. The throb in her palm did not compare to the one in her heart. She supposed it was a lesson from God, taking things for granted as she did. She could not even blame him a bit; the woman was as beautiful as Aphrodite, much more suited for the handsome young doctor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe she would end up as the bride of adventure after all. It sounded so much nicer than the dreaded word <em>spinster</em> any day.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Smiling ruefully, she climbed up the steps to the red bay-and-gable apartment rented by the school. She was wondering what her housekeeper would concoct for the meal of the day. Susan would come in before she left for the day, and would go off at five every evening. Maybe she could request for fish chowder for tomorrow’s dinner. That meal had always managed to comfort her when she was feeling blue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She dug for her keys from the schoolbag, not realising the person sitting at the verandah. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne almost dropped her keys at her surprise. “Gilbert.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man stood up, a tentative smile on his face. “You are a hard woman to track. You didn’t even leave a proper address for the hospital record.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you suppose there might be a reason for that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The blush on his cheeks contradicted the image he was projecting from the smart working suit he was wearing. “I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Flashing him a relenting smile, she opened the front door, ushering him in. “How did you manage to find me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The guilty grin gave him away. “I may have provided some incentives to the clerk at your school,” he replied by way of explanation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walked into the parlour, as Anne called out to her housekeeper, alerting her presence home. “Let me bring you a cup of tea,” she told him, turning on her feet to leave the room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He got hold of her wrist, holding it gently in his hand. “Don’t fuss, Anne,” he said, bringing a bouquet of mums from behind. “For you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled at the flowers, lest she bawled at the sweetness of the gesture. “Thank you. Let me put them in a vase.” She tugged gently at her hand, and he reluctantly let her go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She did not want to ask his intention for the visit for fear of disappointing herself. Friends could visit, couldn’t they? There was nothing romantical socialising with a friend from a common area, wasn’t there? She was never one to read too much into the picture, and she refused to start then. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am here to do the dressing for your hand, Anne,” he announced as she stepped back into the parlor, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand. Susan was informed of their guest, and had asked if she needed to set another place for dinner. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne’s heart fell. Of course, it was always the concern for her well-being, being a doctor that he was. “The after care instruction given by the nurse was detailed, Gil. You didn’t have to bother yourself,” she replied, taking a seat on the opposite couch. The further away, the better, she thought. She held up her bandaged hand. “I did the dressing myself this morning. Well, the art of bandaging is lost to me, so it does not look as neat and meticulous as your work,” she joked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughed, and maybe it was a trick to her eyes, but she noticed that his face fell slightly. “Always so self-sufficient, Anne-girl.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As ever. This morning I found her trying to open the tea canister with her left hand and right elbow,” a middle-aged woman interjected, much to Gilbert’s delight. Slightly plump with a jovial face, Susan Martin made her appearance at the parlor. “Doctor Blythe, my name is Mrs. Martin, Miss Anne’s housekeeper. I hope you’re staying for dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne was hoping he would go off before then, didn’t he have a gorgeous blonde he needed to be eating dinner with? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Mrs. Martin.” He looked at her, a delightful grin on his face. “I’d be honored to.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was here, in his adoptive city, and still he couldn’t get to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was so grateful for that Thursday, when she had walked back into his life, after a year of not seeing each other. Only words of encouragement and stories of adventures had been exchanged between them, and he was careful to lace his affections with uplifting messages because that was what he yearned to be for her, a pillar of support. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt his spirits soared on that fateful day; she could have gone to Women’s College Hospital, but instead had walked into Toronto Western, which was further away. He supposed the hospital had yet to open up its day clinic, so it was Providence that she had gone into his department that day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had noticed she was more open to banters, which told him that she was more receptive to him compared to before. When they were mere school kids, she was shy, but quite obvious with her affections from the way she kept staring his way.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After his blunder, she was cautious around him, and oftentimes, tried her best to evade him. She was cordial, never rude, and he had felt all the guiltier. Their early college years that followed, she was assertive, which endeared her to him even more. He admired that she was strong, but sometimes he had wished, for her to need him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The schoolmarm Anne that had stepped into his clinic was confident yet gentle, strong yet classy, and the traits so beautiful it was heartbreaking that she was not someone to be called his. He took advantage of the standing dinner invitation from Mrs. Martin, but beyond having a fulfilling dinner with delightful company, Gilbert felt like running into a wall when it came to expressing his romantic feelings for Anne. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His flowers, always so happily accepted, was guaranteed to earn him a gorgeous smile. “You’re a kind friend, Gil,” she would say, before leaning down to smell the white gardenia bouquet. He secretly hoped she would open the thick ‘Language of Flowers’ book that she had told him about, and prayed that late Mr. Shirley had inserted a line of two about the flower. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sometimes he felt like going for the kill and presented her with a single red rose, and ‘interpret that, Cuthbert!’ and be done with it. But he knew, from past experience, he should not spook her, no matter how she looked to be more open to his friendship, because the crux of the matter, would she be open to his love?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So thus was the predicament he was in when he had finally gathered up enough courage to invite her to tea. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have tea almost every other day here in the parlor, Gil.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt his head heating up. For such a brainy woman, was she being purposely obtuse? “I mean. I’d like to call upon you,” he said, enunciating the words clearly. He was a bloody 24 year-old man, he could ask a woman to tea without busting a sweat. Nevermind the fact that said woman was the love of his life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her face paled. And his heart dropped. “Don’t you have a sweetheart already, Gil?” she asked quietly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He frowned. “I don’t?” he answered, in a questioning tone. “I mean, in my head, and my heart, you have been my sweetheart for years,” he confessed, no hold barred. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her cheeks colored pink, so becoming, he wanted to reach over and feel the warmth. “The Winifred look-alike in your clinic that time?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The blonde woman. She called you ‘darling’.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Recognition dawned on his face. He snorted. “She called five other men ‘darling’ too,” he replied in manner of explaining. “That’s the clinic director’s new wife. His third one, if I remember correctly.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mind whirled with the theories and all the possibilities. He stood up, and walked briskly to her settee, where she would usually sit during tea. Always the furthest away from him. He kneeled in front of her, and watched her face changed from curiosity, to fear, with a dash of hope. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took her hands in his, so dainty, the laceration on her palm only left with a faint scar. “Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Gil?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you go for tea with me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her smile, so brilliant, despite the shyness that shone from her eyes. “Certainly.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The universe was conspiring against them, that was for sure. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mondays were always busy for them and they agreed that Monday was a no-go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tuesday, he was on call at the clinic. Not only the tea was postponed another day, she was deprived of his presence during their routine dinner too. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had a parent-teacher meeting that ran late into the evening on Wednesday. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A patient in labor with twins came right before clocking out, and he did not have the heart to leave his colleague alone to handle such a difficult case. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Friday. Friday was supposed to be their day. But Gilbert’s visit to the bank was taking longer than predicted. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was about to leave the school for home when she heard the commotion in the staff room. “Did you hear about the robbery at the bank?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her hand went for the ring on her chain. “Bank of Nova Scotia?” she asked, fear descending rapidly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her colleague nodded, and it was all it took for her to dash to the main road and hail a carriage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As the horses thudded down the dusty road toward the bank, Anne busied herself unclasping the chain around neck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She jumped out of the carriage even before it came to a complete stop. She tossed a coin to the driver and dashed to the main entrance, which was already lined with policemen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I believe I have a kin in the bank,” she rushed out to one of the uniforms, who looked at her dubiously. She held up her left hand. “My fiancé might have been in there!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man’s face softened. “Name, Miss?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gilbert Blythe. Doctor Gilbert Blythe.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Recognition dawned on his face. “Follow me, Miss.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was brought to the side of the building, where a few ambulance carriages were parked. “He is the hero of the day. He managed to single-handedly disarm the robber,” the policeman explained, glancing at her. “Your fiance is a very brave man, Miss.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart thudded in her chest. “Stupidly brave sometimes. Please tell me he is alright,” she begged, as she followed the uniformed to the back of one of the carriages. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Heard that, Carrots,” she heard as the man in question came into view. He was sitting on a stool with an orderly attended to him, a tired grin on his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes became glassy. She brought a hand to her mouth, her voice trembling. “See if I would ever care for you again.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The uniformed and the orderly both chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were both quiet in the service carriage on the way to Gilbert’s place. After relaying the necessary information and his witness account, the police courteously sent them home. She sat close to him, their hands clasped in between them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We can ask them to send you home, Anne. It’s getting late. Sorry about tea,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to help you with supper,” she replied, her voice small. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their gaze told of an underlying hunger which could not be satisfied with supper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the door to his residence was closed, and the sound of the carriage pulling away becoming more distant, their lips crashed against each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anne pulled frantically on his jacket and shirt, while he pushed his fingers in between the fiery red strands. He led her backward, before bending down to grasp under her thighs and lifting her off the floor. They kissed, two years of pent-up emotion, flowing through their bodies. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gently laid her down on his bed before finishing what she had started. He tossed his shirt to the floor, before helping her with her blouse. He needed to get to her fast, while having the gun pointed at his head earlier, multiple visions of her came to his mind; would she ever truly be his?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knelt in front of her, marvelling at the beauty that was Anne. Two years and she was captivating, just the same. Hair unbound, breasts like milky orbs with pink nipples, lips sinful, eyes yearning. He pulled her into his lap, and he crossed his legs underneath her pert derrière. Her bottom lips velvety against his own engorged cock. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you,” she uttered softly, as she sank down on him, their lips fusing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was homecoming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She rode him, legs crossed behind his back. Movement as old as time, it started awkward and she was bashful initially, and he knew, she had never had another lover. Not like he had any entitlement to her autonomy, but it gave him a relief that he didn’t have to compete with any ghost called memories. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It has been two years but he still felt as delicious, if not, even better. He was so hard in her, the time that had passed has made it a little uncomfortable at first. But his bucking and the way he was suckling her bosom made her tremble, and before long, she had lost rhythm to her movement as she clenched around him, and not long after, the heat of his seed spurting inside her, triggering another mind-blowing ending for her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They lay in each other’s embrace, basking in the afterglow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mind, Dr. Blythe. It seems like you have compromised me again. It should be in your best interest to marry me,” she murmured, ghosting kisses along his temple. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man chuckled. “Oh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Since we have been having conflicting schedule throughout this whole week, how does next Saturday sound?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He burst out laughing. Blast the universe. He lay a big one on her, thoroughly dazzling the poor lady into breathlessness. “I’d say, let’s get married.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been a quite a ride. Thank you for coming along! I appreciate all reviews and criticisms. Be safe, everyone!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's face it, AWAE's Gilbert didn't have the balls to come clean with his feelings. Not until Diana lit his ass in the train...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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